. The complete poetical and prose works of Robert Burns:. ir we see his levee doorPhilosophers and poets pour,And toothy critics by the score. In bloody raw!The adjutant o a the core, Willies awa! Now worthy Gregorys Latin face,Tytlers and Greenfields modest grace;Mackenzie, Stewart, sic a brace As Rome neer saw;They a maun meet some ither place, Willies awa! Poor Burns — een Scotch drink canna cheeps like some bewilderd chicken,Scard frae its minnie and the cleckin By hoodie-craw !Griefs gien his heart an unco kickin— Willies awa! Now evry sour-moud girnin Calvins folk,
. The complete poetical and prose works of Robert Burns:. ir we see his levee doorPhilosophers and poets pour,And toothy critics by the score. In bloody raw!The adjutant o a the core, Willies awa! Now worthy Gregorys Latin face,Tytlers and Greenfields modest grace;Mackenzie, Stewart, sic a brace As Rome neer saw;They a maun meet some ither place, Willies awa! Poor Burns — een Scotch drink canna cheeps like some bewilderd chicken,Scard frae its minnie and the cleckin By hoodie-craw !Griefs gien his heart an unco kickin— Willies awa! Now evry sour-moud girnin Calvins folk, are fit to fell him;And self-conceited critic skellum His quill may draw;He wha could brawlie ward their beUum, WiUies awa! Up wimpling stately Tweed Ive Eden scenes on crystal Jed,And Ettrick banks now roaring red. While tempests blaw;But every joy and pleasures fled— Willies awa! May I be slanders common speech;A text for infamy to preach ;And lastly, streekit out to bleach In winter snaw;When I forget thee, Willie Creech, Tho far awa!. JOHN ANDERHON MY .1! ON SCARING SOME WATER-FOWL IN LOCH-TURIT. 165 May never wicked fortune touzle him !May never v^icked men bamboozle him!Until a pow as aidds Methusalem He canty claw !Then to the blessed New Jerusalem, Fleet wing awa! n till! JDratl; nf #ir ^mts Snittrr ffilair. (201)The lamp of day, with ill-presaging glare,Dim, cloudy, sank beneath the westernwave. [darkning air, Th inconstant blast howld through the And hollow whistled in the rocky as I wanderd by each cliff and the lovd haunts of Scotias royaltrain (202); [well (203), Or musd where limpid streams once hallowdOr mouldring rwins mark the sacred faue.(204)Th increasing blast roared round the beetlingrocks, [starry sky. The clouds, swift-wingd, flew oer theThe groaning trees untimely shed their locks,And shooting meteors caught the paly moon rose in the livid east. And mong the cliffs disclosd a weeds of woe
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Keywords: ., bookauthorburnsrob, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1850, bookyear1859
